


Into The Light

by devnicole



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28306080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devnicole/pseuds/devnicole
Summary: Wesley Parker is a smart, political genius with years of policy experience. After working at the Wakandan Outreach Center in Oakland for over a year, Erik Stevens, Wesley’s longtime friend, offers her the opportunity of a lifetime: move to Wakanda and serve as an international policy advisor to King T’Challa alongside him. For reasons even Erik doesn’t know, she jumps at the chance and immediately leaves her Oakland life behind for a new one in the elusive, secretive nation. Like her friend Erik, she is a recluse and a loner, determined to focus on rebuilding her life and keeping her secrets her own. However, when she meets a certain Mountain king, she realizes that her life in the darkness doesn’t always have to be so. But is stepping into her light that easy? Or will the fear of trusting others keep her stuck?
Relationships: M'Baku (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), M'Baku (Marvel)/Reader
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! There will be some references to DV in later chapters - I will mark, which ones in the author's notes.

Wesley took a tentative step down the ramp of the Royal Talon, the smoldering African heat immediately hitting her in the face.

“Parker!”

Her face immediately lit up when she saw him, standing separate from the rest of the Royal Family. She hadn’t expected all of them to be waiting to greet her.

“Stevens.”

It came out as almost a quiet sigh of relief instead of the upbeat, jovial tone she usually had. After weeks on edge, the reality of seeing him, stepping her feet on Wakandan soil was like stepping under the warmth of a thousand suns. She couldn’t even hide how relieved she was to be there. It certainly felt better than her impromptu move back to Oakland a year ago. She quickly fixed her face to mask her relief and put on a neutral smile, more of an expression he would expect.

As soon as she was in arm’s length, his strong arms wrapped around her midsection to pull her into a tight hug. She hesitated for a moment, surprised at his greeting, before her arms rested on his broad shoulders to return it. Even after rekindling their friendship over the past year, she still wasn’t used to this new version of him. He was more inviting… more warm than he used to be. Wakanda had changed him, just not in the ways he originally intended.

He pulled back, eyeing her up and down as if she had managed to acquire some injury in the last two weeks without his watchful eye.

“You good?”

“Yea, the flight was great… you know, I just slept through most of it.”

Her eyes tried to take in everything: the silent planes whizzing above her head, the guards lining the landing pad around them, the grandiose palace towering above them, the sounds of bustling city streets outside the palace gates. Wesley had done a decent bit of traveling in her time and this was truly unlike any city she had ever seen.

“Aight. Good, good. Come inside, sis… get you situated.”

After a quick introduction to the Queen Mother and hellos to the rest of the family, all of whom she had met and worked with at the Outreach Center, Erik ushered her inside to show her the room she would be staying in. She knew the accommodations were only temporary, until she got settled and could find her own place. But she certainly was not complaining.

She tried to listen to Shuri as she rattled off information about the different areas of the Palace, what her new bracelet did. But Wesley knew she would retain none of it. She was too excited, too anxious, too nervous. 

Her professors and old colleagues called her a budding prodigy. Everyone knew Wesley Parker was going places. But she knew what they all also called her now: a waste of talent. After graduating from Harvard, she spent years working her way from government office to government office, trying to work her way up to the upper eschelons of the political sphere. She was poised to be a leading voice in foreign policy, one of the few young Black women in the field. And then, over two years ago, Wesley just walked away. From her cushy life in D.C., her high-paying position, a new job offer with the U.N. She abandoned her dream, leaving it stranded in the road for an unexpected detour. And she always looked back, always wished she could get back there.

And here she was, as she walked down the opulent halls of this palace tucked away in Africa. This was the break in the trees illuminating her path back to her dream. This was her chance, her shot to rebuild what she lost… and this was the only place in the world she could do it. She couldn’t mess it up. She wouldn’t.

****

“You like it?”

Wesley laughed, rolling her eyes, “Yea nigga… this is bigger than my whole apartment.”

Her feet sunk into soft taupe carpet blanketing her bedroom floor. She shuffled her feet, feeling the plushness between her toes. She flopped down on her bed, which felt sinfully good and soft. She propped herself up on her forearms to look at Erik, who looked amused by her childish antics.

“Good. How you feeling?”

Wesley sighed, rolling her eyes as she pushed herself back to her feet. The question was vague, as many from Erik were, but she knew exactly what he was referring to. She walked toward him, arms folded in annoyance at his overprotective and overbearing nature.

“Stevens… you gotta stop asking me that. I am _fine._ That was, what? Two weeks ago? I’ve been through worse, I’ve seen worse. I am good - I’ve moved on.” Her beautiful face scrunched up in a frown, “I am honestly sorry I even brought you into all that. It’s not a big deal.”

His eyes widened slightly, “The fuck? Wes. That was a big fucking deal. And lying to me about it don’t change that. You need to talk someone… you need to talk about it. And you need to tell me what ha-”

“Erik. I am begging you… drop this. Leave it alone. _Please.”_

She knew he could hear the exasperation in her words, the pleads. She didn’t like thinking about it, one of the many things from her past she flew halfway around the world to escape. The thin fraying ropes holding her up were starting to unravel again, and it took all her power not to collapse, fall right here in front of him.

He nodded, raising his hands in surrender, knowing that she was serious if she chose to use his first name.

“Fine. I’ll let you keep your secrets… for now. We all got ‘em. When you’re ready, I’m here. You know, I’d kill for you. I gotchu always, Wes.”

_And that’s the problem._

“I know… you’ve killed for less.”

Wesley was one of the few people, outside of his new family, that knew about his past, knew the road littered with blood and bodies he traveled to reach his paradise… his home.

After her parents died in a tragic accident, 15-year-old Wesley was sent from her home in Charlotte to live with her aging grandmother who had little time or interest in raising a rambunctious teenager. However, she did have time for her friends, Ms. Louise and Mr. Franklin, the old couple in their building who had been fostering a 17-year-old boy, Erik.

She and Erik became fast friends, developing a close brother/sister bond. Already exhibiting a penchant for violence, Erik was a good friend to have around as a young girl. He was always there to fight for her, protect her. Even when he left for MIT, everyone in the neighborhood knew she was the wrong girl to mess with.

He looked after her when she joined him in Cambridge during his last two years at MIT. Harvard and MIT were demanding for the pair but they still spent as much time together as they could, studying their respective disciplines. As she kept her nose to the ground and worked on the Hill in D.C. after graduating and Erik started his career in the Navy, they still remained close, talking or seeing each other anytime Erik was available. For every high and every low, Erik was the one constant in her life.

However, when Erik decided to fall deeper into the life of espionage and violence, the calls came less frequently and, eventually, stopped all together. And there was no one to call, no one to check in with to see if he was ok. And so, Wesley lost the remaining family she had in this world, the only family she thought she would ever have.

When their paths fatefully crossed 12 months ago outside a black-owned coffee shop near the Center, both thought they had seen a ghost. They hardly recognized each other, mere shadows of the teenagers that ran through the streets together. Part of her wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn’t. One brief conversation reminded her what it was like to have family… someone who cared. And she jumped at the opportunity to have him back in her life - with the promise that he would never leave her again. And it was clear how much his life had changed. He had found home and safety while she was still fumbling in the dark, desperately searching for both.

It didn’t take long for him to “convince” her to take a position as a consultant at the Outreach Center, lending her policy experience to help them bridge the gap between them and local policymakers in the state. It was better than what she was doing before, working at a small candle shop in Oakland to make ends meet. It was good work, allowing her to do what she loved, while maintaining the low profile she wanted.

“Fair enough. See you for dinner? I’ll come by and scoop you… you’ll be lost in this place for days tryin’ find it yourself.”

“Yea, yea. That’s cool. Thanks. See you then.”

Wesley chewed her bottom lip as she watched his back retreat out her door. She hated how overprotective he was… how much he actually cared. Most people heard “I am fine,” and accept it as fact. Not Erik… he wanted the truth.

She flopped back down on the bed, this time out of frustration and guilt, not childlike amusement. Her hand covered her face as tears stung the back of her eyes.

“You are not fine,” she whispered out loud. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that… or the real reason why.

****

“Does this look ok?” She smoothed the front of her dress.

Erik told her dinner was casual and she tried to follow that but she also refused to look like an idiot in front of the Royal Family. This was casual enough but still stylish and cute. And purple, paired with gold jewelry, as Erik told her those were the colors of the Panther Tribe. While her relationships with Erik, Shuri, and Nakia extended beyond professional pleasantries, she could not say the same about King T’Challa, who she had only really spoken to a handful of times. She couldn’t show up to dinner looking any type of way.

“Yea… I told you it was casual tho?”

And he looked casual and comfy, sporting a pair of black joggers and a t-shirt.

“This is as casual as I am gonna get. Some of us aren’t royalty, Stevens… Or should I call you Prince N’Jadaka?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Nah you shouldn’t if you wanna know where dinner is.”

“Stevens or Erik, it is,” she vowed quickly, not wanting to smart mouth her way out of a meal.

“The tribal leader of Jabariland gon’ join us to by the way. Name’s M’Baku.”

Wesley tilted her head, racking her brain for the bit of knowledge about Wakanda she learned from Shuri, Erik, and Nakia during their long sessions at the outreach center. 

“Jabariland, Jabariland… Jabari… Oh, that’s the group in the mountains right? Gorilla god, snow, just started talking to y’all again like last week?”

“ _Tribe_ ,” he corrected. “But yea, that’s the one. He is cool people tho. The only council member I like.”

Wesley didn’t really understand why she was so nervous. After a year helping them launch the Outreach Center, she was, at least, friendly with everyone at varying degrees. But here? She was a stranger, feeling an intense desire to prove herself and fit in.

“Ms. Parker!” T’Challa stood as she entered the dining hall. It was set for seven, four of the people already seated and waiting.

“King T’Challa,” she rose her arms in the X she had seen others do around him for a year. He smiled brightly, an encouraging sign on her end. “And you can just call me Wesley or Wes.”

“Of course, of course. And just T’Challa will do as well. Please sit. We are just waiting on Lord M’Baku.” He gestured toward one of three empty seats available, the one with a mysterious small gift box sitting on the chair.

“You all did not need to get me anything,” she muttered as she picked up the box. It felt heavy as she fiddled with the edge of the wrapping paper.

“Nonsense. We are so excited to have you here. N’Jadaka and Nakia believe you will be a great asset as we determine how to situate ourselves on the world stage and I concur. This is just a token of our appreciation for your willingness to join us here and we hope it makes your job a bit easier.”

“Thank you. And believe me, I am so appreciative of the opportunity.” She prayed no one could see the light tremble in her hands as she started to tear the paper off. However, before she could, the double doors to the hall burst open.

“Apologies for my tardiness, my king! Issue in the mountains.”

Wesley looked up to find a giant walking toward her, that was the only way she could think to describe him. She almost wondered if he was an enhanced person, like T’Challa. For she had never seen a “regular” man quite his size.

_You’ve never seen a man as gorgeous as him either._

If she could have, she would have rolled her eyes at herself. It was true, he was a sight to behold. He entered the room with an aura of power and strength that would have, once upon a time, had her lusting after him. But that was hardly what she was there for.

“No worries, M’Baku. We were just welcoming our guest, Wesley Parker. This is Lord M’Baku, tribal leader of the Jabari.”

Wesley smiled brightly, offering him a polite wave. Her smile wilted slightly under his unreadable gaze. She watched as his eyes traveled up and down her frame, lingering on her for a few moments before he seemed to catch himself and the awkward silence filling the room.

“The American… Welcome to Wakanda, Ms. Parker.”

Wesley bristled slightly at his words as if being called an American was an insult to her, and in many ways - it was. She turned her head to her right where Erik sat, rolling her eyes and mouthing “the American?” sharing her disdain with the only person in the room who would understand. To which he just chuckled lowly and shook his head. She fixed her face to hide her annoyance before turning back toward him as he sat down in the seat left of her. She supposed she should ready herself for that reaction.

“Uh.. thanks? I guess.” Her voice trailed off a bit as she spoke. Turning her attention back to the half opened gift sitting in her lap, she ripped the rest of the wrapping paper off.

She gasped as she pulled a shiny, state-of-the-art tablet out of a box.

“Oh… I can’t accept this! Thank you but I can’t.”

It was sleek and beautiful, she had seen them all with it over the last year. And she knew no amount of money would afford her something as high tech as this. But she didn’t feel right accepting it. 

“Really, it is nothing.” Shuri waved her hand dismissively, completely ignoring the woman’s protests. “And it will work better with our tech here. It syncs to your beads, the easiest file transfers you have ever seen. You will love it.”

“It’s a losing battle, Parker. Just say thank you,” Erik whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you,” she responded meekly.

T’Challa motioned for a servant to take it from the dinner table, letting Wesley know it would be brought to her room.

“Thank you! It’s too much, really. But I appreciate it. I am sure it will work better than mine.” She thought back to the broken and beaten iPad tucked in her bag, the screen partially shattered and many years past its prime.

Small conversations commenced throughout the group as Wesley sat watching. Shuri and M’Baku were engaging in a lively debate about the merits of vibranium vs. Jabari wood? Whatever that was. Hushed whispers past between T’Challa and Nakia on the other end of the table. And Erik listened, albeit reluctantly given the look on his face, to the Queen Mother chastise him for missing yet another council meeting. 

Wesley sat, eating her second course of only God knew how many, just listening to all of them laugh, bicker, and poke fun at each other.

_This is nice,_ Wesley thought. She knew they weren’t her family. But even being in their presence lifted her spirits more than she could have known. More than sad for what she didn’t have, she was filled with joy for what Erik found. She was curious how they found a way to accept him, forgive him… love him after all he did. But she was glad they had. He deserved it. He deserved happiness after losing so much for so long.

_And you don’t._

She shook her head lightly, as if she could shake the negative orator out of her mind. But she knew she couldn’t. That voice was always there, always reminding her to never get attached. Everyone leaves, everyone hurts you. Because nobody wanted her.

“Wes. Wes!”

At the sound of her name, Wesley pulled herself out of her thoughts, directing her attention at Shuri. It was clear the young girl had tried and failed to get her attention multiple times.

“S-sorry, princess. I-I got lost in my own thoughts there. What did you say?”

“No problem. I just asked how the date with Jason went?”

Wesley blinked a few times in confusion before it hit her. _Fuck._ Jason was a gorgeous and accomplished volunteer at the Outreach Center who taught engineering to the students with Shuri. He had his eye on Wes since the day she literally ran into him in the staff lounge but Wes never really paid him much attention. Shuri had tried incessantly to play matchmaker with the pair. Wesley had almost forgot she lied and told Shuri she had agreed to go on a date with him. She had no intention of doing such a thing; she just didn’t want to be asked about it again.

“O-oh we ended up not being able to get it scheduled before I moved. Y-you know, it all happened so suddenly.”

Shuri seemed crestfallen for a moment but immediately perked up.

“Oh, well good thing there are soooooo many eligible men here. And cute too! Nakia and I will find you someone, don’t worry.”

She wasn’t worried or interested. But she appreciated Shuri’s enthusiasm and good intentions so she just nodded and smiled.

“It must have been hard, moving away from home so quickly,” the Queen Mother interjected, thankfully moving the conversation away from Wesley’s nonexistent love life. “We were surprised you wanted to move so soon.”

“I-I hadn’t been in Oakland long. Just a year so I hadn’t put down too many roots. Wasn’t too difficult to make the move.”

“Still, your friends and family. It must have been hard to say goodbye so fast?” Shuri asked.

“Yes, it was.”

She picked up her wine glass, taking a long sip, which confirmed the finality in her clipped and short response. This conversation was over.

Everyone returned to their separate conversations and their food. Awkwardness slowly seeping into her as she questioned whether she should have just lied to keep the conversation going and be polite.

“Do not feel awkward. Shuri and the tribal leaders in Jabariland have been trying to play matchmaker with me for the last year. I just ignore them.”

Wesley laughed, directing her attention to the owner of that deep baritone voice. “And they haven’t caught on yet?” 

M’Baku brought his glass of wine to his lips. “Of course, not.”

“Well, I could use some of your tips then. The Princess is quite persistent. But I suppose that is what makes her the genius she is,” Wesley mused.

“Happy to share my insights anytime.”

“You live in the mountains, right? I didn’t even know it could snow here.”

M’Baku smirked, “I imagine there is quite a lot you do not know about Wakanda yet.”

Wesley took the bait, he was not wrong. There was so much she didn’t know about this country she was now meant to help lead.

“Well, tell me something about Wakanda you think I should know.”

And his answer to that question carried them through the main course and on to dessert. She mostly listened as he talked about his home, Jabariland, and the people there. It was very surface level, but it made her want to learn more, as much as she could. He explained the differences between the Jabari and the rest of the country. As he spoke, Wesley felt at ease for the first time since she sat down at the table, felt glimmer of her old eager and passionate self peaking through the thick walls she had stacked up. Talking to him felt like talking to an old friend, someone she had known all her life.

“So you come down here often?”

“A few times a month. T’Challa and N’Jadaka lean on my counsel often.”

Wesley nodded, “So we will be seeing quite a lot of each other then, I suppose?”

“Oh, I am counting on that.”

The flirtatious tone in his voice was not lost on Wesley, even if no one else at the table was paying them any attention. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing him wink at her before smiling. If her deep, warm brown skin could, her cheeks would have turned a rosy pink. There was a lot about this face that was gorgeous beyond belief. But his smile drew her eye, pulled her in. She could tell he frowned a lot, his resting face throughout dinner had looked generally disgruntled. However, his smile lit his whole face up, made him look even more beautiful - as if that were possible - and more youthful.

“All, I must retire for the evening. Attend to some tribal business. I will see you all in the Council meeting in the morning. My king.”

He saluted T’Challa who returned it and offered him a head nod. He offered Wesley a lingering glance and and a small smile before leaving.

_What the fuck was that?_ She imagined he did that with a lot of women. Harmless flirting that meant nothing at the end of the day. She knew a man like that would never go for someone like her.

“U-uh I should head to bed as well. I have quite a bit of reading I wanted to do before bed, actually. Thank you for dinner. It was amazing.” Wesley wiped the corners of her mouth before folding her napkin and placing it by her dirty plate.

“Let me walk you,” Nakia offered. “I am headed in that direction anyway. T’Challa and Erik have some business to discuss.”

A sense of longing washed over Wesley as she watched the intimate, subtle touches that passed between the pair as T’Challa kissed her hand and squeezed it before letting her go. Once again, she shook her head, internally stamping down the emotions that did not serve her cause.

She offered them all thanks again and said good night before following Nakia. There was silence for the first minute or two as the events of dinner tumbled through her head.

_Was he actually flirting with me?_

_Does it really matter?_ She debated with herself. Even if he was, which seemed highly unlikely, there were about 1,000 reasons she couldn’t pursue him. Wesley pushed that aside quickly, deciding that he was simply a flirt and she was simply a fool so starved for love that she would fall for his flirtatious nature so easily.

And then that awkward moment with Shuri and the Queen Mother. Wesley hated questions about her personal life. Not because she found them intrusive, but because she did not have the standard cookie cutter answers people actually expected when they asked those questions. She couldn’t tell the truth and all that left her with was lies and she had enough lies… enough secrets for one person.

“I can almost hear you overthinking, Wesley.”

Nakia broke their silence, stopping in front of a large bay window that looked out into the palace gardens. The moonlight illuminated Nakia’s face, which carried a concerned expression on it.

Wesley held her breathe slightly, afraid Nakia had already seen through her facade.

“Dinner went well. Everyone is excited to have you here, truly. Don’t stress over tomorrow. The Council will like you.”

The tension building in her chest dissipated almost immediately, thankful that this was the path the conversation was taking.

“Y-yea you’re right! I’m good, really. Just need to get some of the nervous energy out I guess.”

Nakia nodded before turning to resume their trek back to her quarters. More turns and long hallways than Wesley could count later, they were standing outside her bedroom.

“You and M’Baku seemed to have hit it off.” Nakia’s face was filled with interest and excitement. “And that is saying something… there are few in Wakanda as cold as Lord M’Baku. Pun intended.”

Wesley chuckled, tucking a stray curl back behind her ear. Her small frame leaned against her closed, deep mahogany doors as they talked.

“He was nice! Well… everyone here is nice. But I am sure he is like that with all the ladies, quite the charmer.”

“Oh I can assure you, he is not. He likes you.”

Wesley’s face must have been a lens into her inner skepticism for Nakia immediately started to laugh.

“I am serious!”

Wesley’s hand fumbled for the door knob, slowly opening it before saying, “I doubt it but it doesn’t really matter. I am here to work, I don’t have time for much else.”

Nakia tilted her head, almost examining her. She imagined it was from all the spy training but Nakia was almost impossible to read, which frustrated Wesley to know end. Half of being good at politics was simply being able to read people. Nakia always made her question this skill.

“I find that people only make drastic moves like you have for two reasons. They want to start over or they are running from something. I don’t know which one brought you here, Wesley. But you won’t find your escape or new start behind a mountain of paperwork. It is out there.” Her hand pointed behind her at the stained window across across from her door.

“What are you saying?”

“I am _saying_ is that Wakanda is more than its political agenda. Wakanda is its people, its culture. To succeed here,” she gestured around her, “You have to know what’s out there. You have to experience what is out there. You have to live, Wesley.”

Silence.

“Just something to think about. Good night, Wesley.”


	2. Chapter 2

Wesley’s eyes popped open to the semi-darkness of her bedroom, the lamp on her side table providing a soft glow to the space. However, the warm light did nothing to ease her thumping heart and shaky breathes. 

She wiped the thin layer of sweat off her forehead and pushed herself up into a seated position. Her head fell into her hands as she tried to slow down her breath and her racing heart. 

“When will these fucking nightmares end?” She whispered, exasperated at how her mind won’t let her just be free. All she saw was his face in the darkness haunting her night after night after night. 

Wesley checked her phone, which was face down on the coffee table and saw that it was just 2 a.m. She stood, stretching slightly, before shuffling to her personal balcony. 

The breeze hit her bare arms and legs immediately as she stepped outside, reminding her that she was still in her dress from dinner. She leaned against the railing, eyes closed as she breathed in and out deeply, calming her mind and soul. 

You are safe here. She repeated it over and over again through her inhales and exhales as if her words were the air that kept her breathing. It was a mantra she repeated to herself after every nightmare. Before the events of last week, she hadn’t had nightmares in months. But now they were plaguing her sleep again. She hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest in 8 days, which was no good since she had her first council meeting tomorrow. 

She gazed up at the sliver of the silver moon as she stood, avoiding going back to her bed where she knew her mind waited to torture her. And for a moment, on that terrace, she felt her troubles slip away momentarily. She finally understood it. Why Erik risked everything to get here. Here was breathtaking, here was magical and perfect, here was peace. 

She yawned quietly, realizing that she was not going to get any sleep now, not like this. She just wished her mind would stop terrorizing her like this, would let her officially escape. She was safe now, left her past on another continent. 

It should have been that easy… right?

***  
Wesley never felt more out of place as she sat next to Shuri in the large circle formed by the leaders of Wakanda’s five tribes and the Royal Family. Half the circle were people she already knew, while the other half regarded her with evident disdain. 

“Thank you all for coming. First, I want to introduce Ms. Wesley Parker. She was instrumental in helping us launch the Outreach Center in Oakland, liaising with local officials and helping us make connections to better serve the community there. Now, as we take on more direct forms of aid and outreach in the United States and globally, we felt it was critical to have her perspective here so we can better understand the issues and historical policies at play so we can better map out our next steps. She will be particularly useful as we prepare for the UN meeting next month.” 

T’Challa offered her a reassuring and warm smile before continuing, “Ms. Parker, we are so pleased to have you here.” 

“T-Thank you, King T’Challa. I am honored to have the opportunity and excited to be here.” Her wide smile diminished a tad as she looked around to those she did not know, seeing her greeting was not taken well. An awkward silence ensued before an older woman, donned in black and gold, spoke. 

“Forgive me, my king. But are we sure this is wise? The last time an outsider came into our borders,” the pointed glance toward Erik did not go unnoticed by Wesley or anyone else. Erik shifted in his seat, his annoyance and lack of patience showing clearly as he listened to her. “He almost destroyed the country. And now you tell us that you have brought one of his former associates here too.” 

“I must agree with Elder Shani,” a man with scars, quite similar to Erik’s, around his face and a heavy blue and silver blanket wrapped around his arms interjected. “Offering aid to the outside world is one thing. But bringing them in here? It has only proven to be dangerous.” 

A course of “here, here’s” rang throughout three of the elders, all except a man whose lower lip was being held open by a lip plate and M’Baku.

“We cannot assume that Ms. Parker poses a threat to us simply because she was born on the other side of a border. We should give her a chance,” M’Baku offered, his voice and laidback posture giving off the air of boredom rather than genuine care for the situation. 

Wesley remained silent, eyes trained on Erik who offered her an apologetic shrug. Though this was unexpected, she understood their perspective. She could see, given the history, why they were distrustful of outsiders. However, that did not make it any less awkward to hear people questioning her motives to her face. 

“A chance,” Elder Shani scoffed. “A chance to overthrow our government again the moment the opportunity arises?” 

“See, now why you gotta bring up old shit?” Erik mumbled, not even attempting to whisper. Wesley stifled the laugh that rose to her lips as the Queen Mother, who sat next to Erik, pinched him on the arm to silence him. 

“N’Jadaka, enough. I appreciate all of your concerns. However, I have no concerns about Ms. Parker’s presence here as I have no concerns about my cousin’s presence or I would not have invited them. Every outsider is not a threat to us. They are an asset with perspective we desperately need. And they will be treated as such.”

That quickly ended all objections, as a King’s authority should, however, Wesley could tell his words did nothing to assuage their frustrations or concerns. 

She thought the hardest thing would be advising the King. It seemed the hardest thing would be winning over the hearts and minds of the people sitting around her. 

She remained silent for the rest of the meeting, partially listening to the Elders as they brought their tribal concerns before the King and partially decesending down a rabbit hole of insecurities. She wasn’t sure what she had expected. Not necessarily a warm welcome, but she also didn’t expect to be immediately and openly greeted with such disdain. 

She didn’t really pay much attention until the end of the meeting, when T’Challa directed her and Erik to sift through aid requests from other countries. It was time to determine where the next center would be located and that would be her first task and present their recommendation at the next council meeting in a week.

The meeting ended quickly after that, everyone filing out after T’Challa.

“Well that went… terrible,” Wesley moaned lightly as she trailed behind the rest of the group, hitting herself in the forehead and slumping against the wall behind her. 

“Don’t worry bout them, Parker. I got the same reception my first council meeting after everything,” Erik offered. 

“You mean the one after you staged a coup, killed the king, sent me and my mother into exile, and almost started World War 3? You were deeeeeeffffffinitely the victim there. How could anyone see any differences in your two situations?” Her voice filled with sarcasm and amusement. 

The pair dissolved into their usual playful bickering, bickering Wesley learned to tune out the day she met Shuri in Oakland because it happened so frequently. She barely listened to them as the words of the council tumbled through her mind, mixing and melting with the numerous insecurities that already lived there. 

You aren’t cut out for this. You never were. You were just kidding yourself back then, the negative orator in her head whispered. And now you are just going to prove all of them right. Prove him right.

“This was a bad idea,” she whispered to herself. “Why did I think I could do this? I am not cut out for this.”

“Hey, hey, Wes. Look at me.” 

Erik’s voice cut through the negative thoughts in her head, forcing her to look at him. His hand touched her arm, in an effort to get her attention. She flinched slightly, praying he didn’t not notice. But that was wishful thinking as she felt his hands still for a nanosecond before dropping to his side. Thankfully, he recovered quickly and moved the conversation forward. 

“You ain’t got nothing to worry about, Parker. You said the same thing when you started at the Center and we wouldn’t have gotten as far as we did that quickly without you. This is the same thing.” 

“Do not worry about it, Wesley. Truly,” Shuri chimed in. “The council is old school. They didn’t really agree with opening the borders to begin with so they take issue with any progress born out of that decision. They will warm up to you, as they did this one,” Shuri jerked her hand in Erik’s direction. “And, luckily for you, you haven’t murdered anyone. So you have far less ground to cover to gain their approval.” 

Wesley nodded, her arm running through her wash and go as she looked at them. She just felt so out of practice, so unsure of herself now. She hadn’t been this version of herself in so long and she was so different now… and not in any good ways. 

“You sure you good, Wes? Maybe all this was too soon after last we-“ 

“No, I’m good, Stevens. I-I just gotta get rid of these nerves. I feel so out of practice. I-I am gonna go catch up on some reading that T’Challa sent me. I will catch you both later?” 

She was desperate to escape Erik’s watchful eye. She knew there were still questions on the tip of his tongue, questions she was not in a headspace to answer.

She returned to her office, closing the door. She stared around for a minute before realizing that this was the first place Erik would think to come looking for her when he inevitably decided to finally get the answers he sought. She gazed out the window, the wild greenery of the palace gardens staring back at her. 

The gardens… as good a place as any, she thought. 

***  
Wesley would not have looked too out of place as she sat, legs tucked underneath her in the palace gardens. She managed to snag a blanket, which was far more luxurious than any blanket she had ever seen. She almost felt bad about sitting on it on the ground but one of the maids assured her it wasn’t an issue. She was surrounded by books, her notebook, and her tablet as she read yet another brief about Wakandan’s internal social polities from T’Challa. 

She usually could read faster than this but she didn’t understand the history of anything she was reading, which required her to read through history books. And then, if something was important enough, she would write it down in her notebook. 

The melodic sounds of H.E.R rang through her AirPods as she listened, flipping seamlessly between all her materials. She knew it would have been better to do this in her office, but this was preferable. 

She liked this spot for it’s seclusion. It was far enough away from the palace doors so most people did not wander this far. And it was by a row of Wakandan roses… They grew in vibrant colors Wesley had never seen. Traditional red and white, yes. But there were bushes of red with yellow tips that looked like fire, purple, and midnight blue. She was sure it was the vibranium, which was infused in the soil - roses like that didn’t grow anywhere else in the world. When she first walked over, she noticed that a few at the bottom of the bush were starting to wilt, the natural process of dying as most of the sunlight didn’t reach them. And yet, despite their edges becoming wrinkly and beginning to decay, they still looked more beautiful than any roses she had ever seen.

Wesley immediately decided to settle in the small patch of green grass by the roses, deciding this was going to be her working spot. In fact, no one had disturbed her as she spent her afternoon sitting outside, until a hand touched her shoulder. 

Wesley halfway jumped out of her skin at the unexpected touch of a stranger. She stood up quickly, the tablet and open book tumbling onto the purple blanket she sat on, closing shut with a dull thud. Her heart rate increased to alarming speeds as she looked around as her body tensed up, only to find M’Baku standing behind her. 

He towered over her, blocking the bright sun that peered down at them, and casted a shadow of darkness over the small patch of grass she was working on. 

She watched as his face filled with surprise and concern at her reaction. She forced her lips to contort into a smile to put him and herself at ease. Though it was difficult, she imagined it came out as more of a grimace than anything else. 

“Apologies, Ms. Parker. I did not mean to startle you.” 

“No apologies necessary, Chief M’Baku. I-I am just easily startled.” She tried to say it in a joking tone but she could see it didn’t hit the mark… at all. 

He peered down at her, her assurances that she was fine clearly doing nothing to assuage the concern on his face. She felt like one of those wilting flowers around them as she waited for him to speak. She smoothed out the front of her grey skater dress nervously, still waiting for her heart to resume it’s resting rate again. 

You have got to relax. Nothing can hurt you here.

“Enjoying an afternoon walk?” She asked, trying to steer the conversation somewhere. 

“Yes. I do so every time I come here. I like to walk back here though. The palace gardens are the biggest in the country… most people do not venture all the way back here,” he remarked. “I like the solitude.”

Awkwardness spread through her as she listened to him, she felt almost like an intruder on his peaceful moment. She couldn’t tell if she heard annoyance in his tone or if those were just her insecurities flaring. That’s certainly what the council meeting reminded her this morning… that she was, among many other things, an intruder. Either way, she felt the strong desire not to push her luck with him, to simply get out of his way. 

You can enjoy the gardens another day.

“W-well, do not let me disturb you,” she said politely, eyes trained on the grass between their feet. “I should probably go back to my office anyway. Finish up there.” 

She mentally quickly resigned to working in her office from now on. They told her she had free reign of the palace and its gardens but it certainly didn’t feel that way. She returned to the blanket beneath him, gathering her scattered books and materials and stuffing them into her tote bag as quickly as her hands would allow but it still wasn’t fast enough for her liking. She felt his eyes on her as she folded the blanket and picked up her heavy bag. She slung the blanket over her arm and gave him a polite smile. 

“Good afternoon, Chief M’Baku.” 

She turned away from him only for him to call her name yet again. 

“I-I can walk you back, i-if you would like. I need to head back to my quarters anyway. Attend to some business in the mountains.” 

Wesley’s face scrunched up in confusion.

Once again, Wesley found that there was another person in this country that she couldn’t read… couldn’t figure out. His motives? His desires? She had no earthly idea. 

“U-um ok,” she answered quietly. 

He held out his hand, allowing her to walk ahead of him onto the winding stone path that would return them to the palace. 

“I should apologize for my fellow council members,” he offered, breaking the awkward silence between them. “They were rather harsh this morning.” 

Wesley shook her head, “Again, no need for apologies. Harsh, yes. But I understood the criticism and their concerns. They do not know me and after only a year of working with Erik, I cannot claim to know Wakanda. I am a woman of action. I will win their confidence by doing my job and doing it well.” 

She glanced to the side, finding him staring at her. Could she see admiration in his eyes? 

“That is quite good to hear. Most do not have the self awareness to take criticism with such grace.” 

“Thank you. That is why I was out here, anyway. Learning more about this place. Though I feel like I haven’t made a dent in it.” 

M’Baku’s boisterous laugh filled the area, causing her feet to stop. 

“What is so funny?” 

“You are not going to learn all about Wakanda in the pages of a book, Ms. Parker.” 

“Wesley… please,” she corrected him, already tired of the ‘Ms. Parkers.’ 

“You are not going to learn all about Wakanda in the pages of a book, Wesley. Or in these palace walls for that matter. You have to go explore, meet the people, experience our world for yourself.”

She shifted from side to side, taking in his words, “Nakia said the same thing.” 

He motioned for her to keep walking toward the palace. 

“Our future queen is as wise as she is beautiful. So why have you not heeded her advice? You continue to shell up here with your books.” 

Wesley bristled a bit at his words, suddenly feeling attacked. “Well, it has only been 24 hours. Shuri is already begging to take me to the markets on Monday and Erik has some places he would like to show me tomorrow.”

“Good, if you ever wish to see Jabariland, please let me know. I would be happy to escort you around.” 

“That would be nice.” 

At that, they finally reached the palace doors, the cool air feeling particularly delightful after sitting out in the sun. 

With the offices to the left and the private residences to the right, the two stopped walking, preparing to split off in their own directions. 

“I hope you have a great rest of your day, Ms. Par- Wesley. I will see you at dinner.” 

His smile was small but distinctive, making her return it with one of her own. “Thank you, same to you. Chief M’Baku.” 

“Since we are dropping the formalities, just M’Baku will do fine.” 

“Got it, M’Baku.”

The pair lingered longer than they needed to, staring at each other before he broke their eye contact and headed toward the right. She stood and watched as he glanced back at her a couple of times before heading to the left toward her new office. 

***

“M’Baku likes her.” 

Erik laughed, thinking about the mild flirting the pair carried on at dinner, the stroll in the gardens they had earlier, according to Okoye who heard it from another Dora. 

“Yea, he ain’t even trying to be discreet either. It would sure make our mad scientist happy. She was tryin’ set Wes up all year.” 

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his cousin’s nickname for his sister. 

“Okoye says they have a date tomorrow. A walk in the gardens. Though I am sure neither will call it that.” 

“They definitely won’t. But good. Wesley is a nun. Last boyfriend I ever heard about was 3 or 4 years ago? That girl needs someone besides me in her life.” 

You are protective of her.” 

Erik’s hands stilled as he shuffled through papers on his desk, only for a brief moment, as the words hit him. He didn’t look at his cousin, who sat across from him in his office. He originally thought T’Challa came in here to discuss their next mission to recover a Wakandan artifact that resurfaced in neighboring Canaan, which made extraction difficult. However, this had nothing to do with that at all. 

“You love her.” 

That statement caused him to finally still his movements completely and look up at his cousin with a look of confusion and annoyance. 

“I do not mean to say you are in love with her,” T’Challa clarified. “But you do love her.” 

As he thought about it, T’Challa was not wrong. He was just giving a voice to the things he never said out loud about anyone or to anyone. He shifted to lean forward on is desk. He scratched the back of his head before responding. 

“She is one of the few people who knew me before all the bullshit. She’s the only constant in my life I guess.” 

“And you never…” his voice trailed off but Erik knew exactly what he was implying. 

“Nah, nah.” The almost disgusted look on his face let T’Challa know he was telling the truth. “I love her like I love Shuri… or you when you ain’t acting aggy,” he muttered at the end. 

“That might be the nicest thing you have ever said to me.” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“She is a hard worker… I see how you two are friends. She is quite like you.” 

One of Erik’s eyebrow’s raised, “Nah, Wes ain’t nothing like me. And thank Bast for it.” 

T’Challa laughed, standing up and walking toward the tall stained window across Erik’s office. Erik’s office reflected his military training. It was cleaner than T’Challa’s himself; everything put neatly in its place every minute of the day. There also wasn’t much in the way of decorations or stuff. There were three framed photos in the whole room sitting on the large gold-trimmed desk: a photo of Erik and his father before he died, a photo of him and Wesley on Harvard’s campus in Boston, and a photo of T’Challa, Shuri, and Erik. Otherwise, everything in the office was there out of necessity, not decoration. 

Erik watched as T’Challa absentmindedly twisted his father’s ring on his finger, the same one Erik wore around his neck. T’Challa never realized it but he did that anytime he was deep in thought. Erik waited for him to continue speaking as he stared into the depths of the bustling Golden City. 

“Oh, she is more like you than either of you see. Brillant beyond belief like you. Desperate for love and belonging like you. Running from her past like you. She is you when you showed up at the border a year and a half ago, just without the murderous tendencies.”

“You got all that from a dinner and a council meeting?” Erik set back in his high-backed chair, his boot resting on the edge of his desk as he watched his cousin.

“You seem to forget I have met Wesley several times before yesterday. You see what you want to see, N’Jadaka. Because you feel guilty, you overcompensate, as you have done with all of us. You protect her physically, no doubt, you help her revive her career. However, you ignore all the deep stuff… the ways in which she struggles. All the pain she carries around, visibly but tries to hide.” 

Erik sucked his teeth, ignoring the “overcompensating” piece because he didn’t have the energy to travel down an emotional road with this cousin today. 

“Why else would you take care of her that night? When she refuses to even tell you how or why that happened to her? When she refuses to tell you anything about her life before the day you ran into her in that coffee shop? And you refuse to investigate it for yourself?” 

“She was mugged, T… not much else to it.” 

“You truly believe that?” 

Silence. 

“Wesley doesn’t have a past to run from and no reason to lie to me,” Erik reasoned, trying a different route to prove his point… to be right about the woman he knew most of his life, someone his cousin only met a year ago. “Unlike me, she is a good person… If anything, she is like you - too good of a person, if you ask me.” 

T’Challa looked at him, a sad smile on his face. “Good people still have demons they are running from, N’Jadaka. I do not know what they are, they are not for me to know. But it certainly took more than a job for her to abandon her life within a week.”

The pair shared a pointed glance as T’Challa walked to the door, leaving his cousin with much to ponder for the rest of the night. 

“Good night, umzala.”


	3. Chapter 3

_A year ago_

“Wesley… a vanilla cold brew for Wesley.”

Wesley rushed forward, her hand shooting up immediately to ensure the overly perky young barista would lose the compulsion to yell her name across the shop again. Her eyes franticly scanned the terrain of the crowded black-owned community staple, The Bean, breathing easier as she realized no one looked familiar or was paying her much attention.

You’re good. Relax. Relax.

She had only been in Oakland a couple weeks and was still on edge. Sometimes she felt like she was slowly backing away from a cliff but moments like this reminded her she was barely getting her footing and only one or two missteps would send her tumbling down again. She knew it would fade eventually but between the jitters and the nightmares, it couldn’t come fast enough. She gave the barista a polite nod and smile before heading back out the door.

She turned her attention back to the application in her hand for a job at the bookstore across the street. It wasn’t much but it would pay the bills. She still had enough in her checking and savings to last for a long time but she wasn’t interested in completely wiping out the money her parents left her. She wasn’t totally financially irresponsible. This would cover her modest amount of bills just fine.

Looks simple enough, she thought as she brought the cup to her lips, the sweet vanilla hitting her taste buds. She, unfortunately, wouldn’t get to enjoy it for long though.

BAM!

“Fuck,” she cried out as a man’s hard chest collided with hers, sending the ice cold drink went down her blouse; and her phone, purse, and folder of job applications falling to the ground.

“My bad! I ain’t see you.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking the moment to fix her face to ensure her annoyance wasn’t on display as she addressed the unknown man, annoyance that she knew was, at least, partially misplaced.

“Oh d-don’t worry about it. Reading and walking… death for the clumsy.” She chuckled as she knelt down to gather all of her things. She was thankful for the help as he handed her the applications from her folder.

Just as she was about to say thank you, something caught her eye: the light caught a silver ring hanging from his neck. She stared at it for a moment as it bounced gently against his chest.

I’ve seen that before.

“Your phone.”

His voice filled her ears and she tore her eyes from the ring to find her phone in his hand in front of her face. She smiled and took it from him, finally looking at him.

Her smile faltered slightly, “E-Erik?”

It came out as a question but she knew it was him. He did look different, so much older than the last time she saw him three… no four years ago. Like watching the Sun come up, she watched realization dawn on his face.

“Wesley.”

They both straightened out of their crouched positions, eyes fixed on each other as years of lost time caught up with them. As the immediate shock faded, an emotion Wesley hadn’t quite expected started to creep into its place: anger.

Erik was the brother she never had and she loved him like it. She always assumed, perhaps foolishly, that he felt the same. But all of that changed four years ago. The calls and texts started coming less, it would be harder and harder to get him on the phone and when she did, he was cold and distant. And then one day, it just stopped altogether. And she never understood what she said or did to make him just abandon her like that. And then one day, even with her contacts at the state department, she couldn’t even find out what happened to him.

I thought he was dead, she thought to herself.

“I t-thought you were…” she started to repeat her inner thoughts and then stopped. What could be said after so long? What was worth saying? She had so many questions. And yet, she found herself not particularly interested in giving him the chance to answer, if he even cared to. She couldn’t decide so she settled with something that was objectively lame. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I work for my cousin now. He just opened an office nearby.”

“Oh.”

Wesley couldn’t find any other words than that, her brain filled with angry mush as she tried to process seeing a ghost from the past. My cousin. That struck her like a physical blow. She never knew of a cousin or any family in Erik’s life. And then she had her answers… her why. Erik found his family… and he didn’t need some sorry, worthless consolation like her anymore.

Nobody wants you.

She nodded, silence and tension filling the space between them as they stood paralyzed at the door of the shop. Finally, she found her voice, deciding that she had little to say to him. He didn’t need her so she didn’t need him.

“Well, I-I have to go. U-um, I will see you around? Or in another 4 years,” she shrugged. “Bye, Erik.”

She could see her finality and bitterness in her tone landed just as harshly as she intended as he took a mini step back from her as if that would distance himself from the anger radiating off her. It hurt, hurt like hell, but she forced herself to look away before steering herself toward the door. However, she barely pushed it open before she heard her name.

“Parker! Wait!”

Hearing her name was enough to stop her movement, still her hand as it held onto the brass doorknob of the coffeeshop’s front door. Her leg shook anxiously as she waited for him to say something… anything.

The side of her that wanted answers was winning out. Perhaps he knew what she tried to deny: she was all bark and no bite. Not nearly as heartless and cold as she tried to be, especially in the last year. That side of her that still desperately wanted love, friendship, and companionship - the side she buried deep just to get through the day - was winning. That side wanted a reason to turn around, a reason not to push away yet another person in her life.

“Wes… I j-just need an hour to explain, please. I’ll buy you that coffee and we can talk. One hour.”

She turned on her heels, examining him for a moment. She could see the glimmer of a younger Erik in his eyes, his eyes which were filled with regret and a longing for forgiveness.

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding, relenting. She told herself it was because she had been desperately craving that coffee and wanted a replacement. But even she knew that was a lie simply to save herself another blow to her pride.

After he replaced her wasted coffee, they walked for a few blocks to a park across from where their housing project used to stand. Now it was a giant complex, home to the first Wakandan Outreach Center. They settled on an old rusting bench, one they had sat around 100 times in their youth. It felt like she was a 15 year old again, running through the streets with her play big brother.

“Ok. Explain,” she demanded.

She wasn’t sure what she expected. But the story she got was more shocking than she could have ever anticipated. His explanation, his journey, really just sparked more questions and questions. By the end, anger still coursed through her… now more of a quiet stream than the raging rapids she felt before, still frustrated that she was deprived her only family so he could go find bigger and better.

“So you overthrew a government and almost died a year ago? And now you are working with the man you tried to murder?”

He laughed, his eyes trained on the center across the street. Wesley glanced at him, the regret pooling in his brown eyes evident as he watched pedestrians walk by.

“Yea… it sounds crazy, I know. It took almost the whole last year to fix all I did… or at least the stuff that could be fixed.”

Silence.

“You angry with me?”

“I’m that transparent, huh?”

“You always were.”

Wesley sipped her drink for a few moments, trying to untangle the web of conflicting emotions coursing through her to pull out one gleaming coherent thought.

“I-I don’t know what to be, Erik. I mean, I-I am happy for you, truly. I just… You…” her voice trailed off as she searched for the words to describe this feeling. He gave her time, space to figure it out, which she appreciated.

“You left me,” she whispered, she didn’t look at him. Her eyes were also fixated on the Center across the street, a place that held so much more meaning now that they sat down.

She couldn’t explain the tears that welled up in her eyes. Crying wasn’t something she did often, despite having a mountain of reasons to.

“N-no warning,” her voice broke. “Y-you just stopped responding to calls and texts. A-and this entire time, I-I thought I did something… said something to push you away. W-worse, a-after awhile, I thought you were dead. I f-felt so guilty about whatever I did to push you away and never having the chance to a-apologize. A-and you come back like a ghost… A-and you tell me you w-were basically an assassin? And n-now you’re a prince? I mean, w-what the fuck is that? A-nd I-I-I don’t know what to say!” She threw up her hands in exasperation, her heart beating a bit faster than before as waves of sadness crashed over her, pulling her deep into a sea of sorrow she always tried to avoid. “I-I just don’t know what I did to deserve that. A-and I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You didn’t do anything to deserve that. I’m sorry, Wes.”

Her eyes grew to almost twice the size, finally turning to face him. One thing she had never in her life heard Erik Stevens do was apologize. And she could tell he meant it. She figured after years of spy training, he could hide his emotions better than this. And yet, here he sat, wearing his regret and sadness like a scarlet letter.

“I never shoulda just… stopped talking to you. You didn’t deserve that at all. I got obsessed with finding Wakanda… getting there. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered. And there’s no excuse. I thought about you a lot in the last year. When I got my head on straight again. Nothing I can say will change how fucked up that was… I was. But I promise, I’ll never leave like that on you again. Can you forgive me?”

Wesley sighed. She scratched her head lightly as she contemplated her options. Erik was not the type to own up to his mistakes like this. And here he was, clearly upset and trying to make amends. If she was being honest with herself, she wanted him back in her life, needed him back in her life.

“I’m still mad at you,” she prefaced. “But yea, I can forgive you… I’ve missed you honestly.”

“Aight, don’t get all sappy on me.” She shoved him with her shoulder, eyeing him suspiciously when it felt like she shoved a wall: solid, hard, and unmovable.

“What you doing out here anyway? I thought you were some big hot shot in D.C.”

“Yea, I guess you could say that. I-I left D.C. about a year ago? Umm couple weeks after the Sokovia Accords… around the time you were overthrowing a government, I guess?” She smiled at the way he rolled his eyes. “Bounced around for a while. I just got here like two weeks ago.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair as they sat. This was the awkwardness of reconnecting… what was appropriate to ask, what wasn’t. Ultimately, Wesley decided this was enough catch up for one day.

“Um… Well, I better go. It was good talking to you, Stevens. Seriously, take care of yourself.”

They shared a hug. Wesley forced herself not to linger in it too long, afraid she would fall and drown in it after being deprived of warmth and love for so long. She remembered why she liked having Erik around so much. He felt safe… felt like home even after it felt like a whole lifetime had passed them by. She pulled away from him, immediately feeling the waves of coldness wash over here. The path of loneliness she chose was cold and dark… she was constantly reminded of that. They offered each other a lingering look before she steered herself back up the street toward her car.

“Parker!”

“Can’t let me leave, can you?” She called back to him, keys jingling in her hand as she turned around.

“Nah I can’t. Might be oversteppin’ but I saw the job applications you were holding… You lookin’ for a job?”

“Um… yea. Just looking for something to tide me over for a couple months.”

“You know about the outreach center?” His hand gestured across the street to the building.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Yea well, we are runnin’ into some bullshit red tape. My cousin been looking for someone to help out. Someone with your experience. How would you feel about joining the team?”

Wesley let out a shaky laugh, “Work for the King of Wakanda? I dunno, E. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile honestly… the politics, the press, it’s too much for me. What y’all are doing is the opposite of that. I probably not even qualified. I haven’t worked in like a year?”

He listened patiently as she listened all the ways in which his proposition was utter nonsense, nonsensical, just plain illogical. He listened until she ran out of words.

“You done?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Good. Look, all that’s bullshit and you know it. I know you don’t want to work at no damn bookstore, Wes. You built for more. We can keep it low profile for you, behind the scenes, I swear. Let me hook this up for you.”

“This part of your apology?”

“Maybe so. Let me help you out, Parker. Seriously.”

Wesley turned it over in her head for a few minutes, the soft wind caressing her face. “Can I think about it? Get back to you in a couple days?”

Erik reached into his bomber jacket and pulled out a business card. “My number. Take tonight and call me tomorrow, ight? You won’t regret it.”

***  
Wesley’s first weekend in Wakanda came and went with the blink of an eye as she found herself sitting in her new office working her Monday morning away. She barely had time to think as Shuri and Erik pulled her in a million directions, taking her shopping or around different landmarks in the country. When she wasn’t on guided tours with them, she was with M’Baku.

He was nothing like she thought he would be when he arrived at dinner on her first day: stoic, hard, and quiet. He told jokes that made her laugh so hard her ribs ached, told stories that had her hanging on every single word. His laugh infectious, his presence comforting, his spirit captivating. She hadn’t felt this at ease with a man since… well, in a long time.

M’Baku was easy where her life was complex, talking to him made her forget about her troubles if only for a brief walk around the gardens. She didn’t know him, really at all. She found it odd that she willingly spent that much time with a man she met days prior. And yet, he was one of the only people here she truly wanted to spend time with. When she was out shopping with Shuri, getting back to the Palace to walk the grounds or the gardens with him was all she thought about, it filled her with anticipation and excitement.

She couldn’t really explain what they were, but it felt like she was gaining a friend. Even she would admit there was some flirting between them, she wasn’t daft. But it was all harmless to her. She knew he, a powerful and strong chief, would never go for her. Even if she wasn’t an outsider, she wasn’t good enough for him. She was…

_Insecure, damaged… broken._

She cringed internally at those words. They were not inaccurate… just harsh. She was everything she knew M’Baku didn’t need or want in his life. She didn’t really understand why he even wanted to be her friend. But she had so few of those that she was in no position to turn down kindness and affection in any form.

Wesley’s concentration was broken when her wrist started vibrating. She pressed down on the bead, M’Baku’s head and torso materializing before her.

Her smile brightened as she looked down at her wrist.

“M’Baku… long time no see. How are you?” she joked, smiling at the hologram version of him.

“I am good. I just called to…” his voice trailed off briefly. She waited for him to start speaking again. He almost seemed nervous. However, that couldn’t be right. What did a chieft have to be nervous about?

“I am calling to see if you have any plans for Friday evening?”

“No, just work, maybe some Netflix. Why?”

“Good. Will you accompany me to dinner Friday evening? There is a new restaurant in Gorilla City I can get us a reservation to.”

Wesley stared at him confused, her answer lodged in her throat.

_Is this a date?_

_No… no. This can’t be a date._

_Seems like a date though…_

_It isn’t a date. S_ he settled on in her mind. _It couldn’t be._

“Y-you want to go to dinner… with me?” She asked.

“Yes,” he said simply. “And I would like you to see Jabariland.”

She had heard so much about his home in the mountains, she was quite frankly dying to see it for herself. There were several reasons to say no, she knew, and yet, a voice in her head ignored all those and pushed her to say yes.

“Um, sure… sounds like that would be nice.”

“Perfect. I will speak to T’Challa about allowing you use of the Royal Talon for the evening. Our reservation is at 7. I must head to a meeting. Have a good day, Wesley.”

“See you then.” She offered him a smile before his hologram dissolved into thin air as if it was never there to begin with.

Wesley slumped back into her high-backed chair, her fingers running through her hair as she replayed that conversation in her head. It isn’t a date, she told herself. He just wanted to show her Jabariland. She couldn’t let herself believe he actually wanted her in anyway other than friendship. Her brain wouldn’t allow it.

 _At least I have something to look forward to this week,_ she thought as she turned her attention back to her work, a bit more life and joy radiating off her now. That made the work day fly by until her meeting with Erik.

“You’re late.” She called as he walked into her office, her eyes still trained on the papers in front of her.

“You ight.” His rough voice said back. “Show me what you got.”

She rolled her eyes, standing and stifling a yawn as she pushed up the sleeves of her oversized blush blazer and walked to the conference table in the corner of her office.

Three neat, color coded piles of applications sat in front of them. Each with a notecard paper clipped on top.

“You’re such a fucking nerd,” he remarked, only partially joking. “Also how the hell did you read through these already? It’s just Monday.”

“I hate you… and a real genius never reveals her secrets,” she answered casually, winking at him. Her secret: she learned to survive on a couple hours of sleep. “Anyway, first pile are rejects - red for no, obviously. Notecard on the front are justifications; should we need them. These are all countries with severe human rights violations, dictators, etc.”

“Some could reason that means their citizens need the help more than most?”

“I am sure they do. _But_ think about the hoops we had to jump to get liberal ass California on board with the Outreach Center? It won’t be easy, especially in a fascist state. Politically, where the next outreach center goes matters. It signals who your allies are, or rather who you want them to be. These,” she placed her manicured hand on pile, “are not allies you want or need, unless you want the entire free world to shun you immediately.”

“I agree. What’s this pile?”

“Yellow are places we should start to become friendly with but do not have an immediate need so we should table their proposals for n…now.” Her words faltered as she let out a huge yawn.

“You good?”

Wesley nodded, smiling through her exhaustion.

“Didn’t get much sleep. Nothing to worry about,” she waved her hand as if magically waving his concerns away. She bent over to pick up the green pile, which were cities they should consider first. “I’ll probably just go to bed early tonight or something.”

“Nightmares?”

Her body tensed merely at the word, visions from her subconscious she couldn’t shake flooding back. “Why do you assume that?”

“Cause you were mugged a week ago? That’s considered traumatic to most people. No shame in it.”

“Yea, I guess? But it wasn’t that bad honestly. I survived.” She handed him the pile of green folders. “Our recommendation will likely come from these so I wouldn’t waste your time with the others. But we can always revisit if you don’t agree with these recommendations.”

Erik sighed. He had been trying to look for his opening… to finally rip out the weeds of doubt his cousin planted. And every time Wesley shut him down.

T’Challa hadn’t been wrong about him. Erik even brought it up in his weekly sessions with his counselor. He was completely blinded to all the ways in which she was just different. Colder and harder, while at the same time, insecure and terrified. He mulled over the last year and could find instance after instance of behavior that was a far cry from the woman he grew up with… hell, the woman he knew now five years ago. He was beyond desperate to understand what happened in those missing four years to darken such a warm and bright soul.

But he learned long ago that everyone’s resolve - their dedication to their secrets and lies - falls eventually. Wesley would be no different. He just had to be patient, which was the true struggle.

Silence fell over them as he read through the notecard on each folder.

“You excited for your date Friday?” He asked casually.

Wesley eyes widened.

“I didn’t… it isn’t… How do you know about that?”

“This place runs on gossip,” he shrugs his broad shoulders. “I hear stuff… like you needing the Talon.”

Wesley rolled her eyes. “It’s not a date,” she responded quickly.

“Nahh, it is a date. M’Baku has never asked one of us to try a new restaurant in Jabariland with him. Hell, I didn’t even know that giant nigga knew that many words until you rolled up. It’s a date, Parker.” Erik’s face couldn’t hide his confusion as he watched Wesley fidget uncomfortably in her seat. She picked at her nail beds, something she always did when she was anxious, and she could barely look him in the eye. “What’s the big deal? This could be good for you. M’Baku is good people.”

“The big deal is I didn’t come here for that. He is just a new friend.” She picked up the stress ball she kept lounging on her desk and started squeezing it, hoping it would settle the anxiety and frustration rushing through her.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. When was the last time you got some anyway?”

Her mouth dropped open as she threw the ball at him, his steller reflexes allowing him to catch it immediately. “That doesn’t seem like appropriate office talk, Mr. Stevens.”

“You think I give a damn about what’s appropriate? I’m serious Wes. You young, beautiful. You gotta get out and date. M’Baku’s a good place to start.”

“My dating life isn’t your concern, Stevens. But I’m afraid you are going to be disappointed. He is Wakandan royalty… he could hardly be interested in me,” she scoffed. “I don’t deserve him… or anybody, for that matter.”

Silence.

She sighed, her eyes clenching in frustration as she heard the last part cross her lips. She certainly hadn’t intended on releasing that into the space, particularly to Erik of all people.

When she opened them, she was not shocked to see a clear frown on her friend’s face.

“That’s what you think? The Wes I knew, knew she was the baddest bitch in the game.”

“The Wesley you knew died a long time ago, Erik. We both changed.”

Erik’s eyes watched as hers fell back to her desk, a neutral look appearing on her face as she returned to work. She was clearly ending the conversation. He watched as her hand moved rapidly across her notepad, still maintaining her perfect penmanship as she went.

“I miss her.” He offered softly in a moment of rare vulnerability.

Wesley’s hand stilled, sadness washing over her for a brief moment before she caught herself. She knew what he was doing, trying to get her to be vulnerable. But she couldn’t.

“Me too.”

****

Erik ignored the nervous glances and whispers that followed him as he walked to Shuri’s workstation in her lab. Over the last year and a half, he learned quickly to ignore everyone who held his past actions against him. The only people he cared about forgiveness from had already given it. The rest could kick rocks for all he cared.

“What you doing Einstein?” He called, announcing his presence as he watched her tinker with a new gadget.

Shuri rolled around in her chair to face him, “Just working on a new prototype… what’s up?”

“I need a favor, that’s what’s up. One you gotta keep between us.”

Shuri jumped up, Erik chuckling at her clear enthusiasm. Secret missions and activities were her favorite kind.

“What do you need?”

“The background check you did on Wesley.”

Erik raised his eyebrow as his request was met with complete confusion.

Shuri shrugged and shook her head. “I didn’t do one on her.”

Erik laughed lowly. “I know I asked you not to. But I also know you. You probably couldn’t resist checking her out when she started at the Center. So, hand it over, Einstein.”

Shuri rolled her eyes. “You speak multiple languages, went to MIT. I know you can comprehend words, Killmonger. I. Do. Not. Have. One.” She walked over to her computer, Erik watched as she typed a few words before a set of folders appeared on the giant screen beside her. “Look for yourself. That is every person we hired at the Center we did a check on - no folder for Wesley, at _your_ request.”

Erik put his head in his hands, frustration coursing through him at his past self. He had asked Shuri and T’Challa to forgo the background check on Wesley, something about doing that on someone he considered family didn’t sit well with him. However, deep in his heart, he didn’t actually expect them to agree with the request. He assumed they did it and just kept it from him.

“Fuck. And you didn’t do one before she moved here?”

“No! Why would I when you told us not to? And after a year with no issues, it seemed irrelevant.”

“Yea I didn’t actually expect you to do what I said… you never do what I say.”

“I do what T’Challa says,” she muttered quietly. Erik could tell she hadn’t really intended for him to hear it. But he wasn’t going to let her terrible whispering off that easy, swooping down on her words like a predator after its prey.

“What the hell does that mean?”

He watched her fidget uncomfortably, shifting her weight back and forth, before she sighed. “It means you are right. I was going to ignore you but T’Challa told me not to. He said using trusting you was important to your healing process. Wesley was your choice and you vouched for her. It was enough for T’Challa so it was enough for me.”

A feeling of appreciation washed over him, grateful for the big and small things his cousin did to make him feel valued and trusted. However, he was still working on verbalizing his feelings… the outward part of feeling things he always opted out of before. So, he didn’t say anything, simply moving the conversation forward, finally getting to the point of what brought him there.

“Ight. Well I need one now. And I need you to hack the Oakland street cams from two Fridays ago, the 6th - you can follow her from the center’s lot through the city right?”

“Yea I can. But why? Did Wesley do something?”

Erik shook his head. “It ain’t what Wesley did, it’s what someone did to her. I can’t wait for her to be willing to tell me. I need to know… now. Everything you can find, asap.”

Shuri nodded, but he could see the hesitancy in her eyes.

“Say what you wanna say, lil bit. I ain’t gonna kill you.”

“Small comfort,” she smirked. “Look, I’ll do this because you asked. But this… this isn’t the way, N’Jadaka. You want to protect her, I understand that. But maybe you should just be there for her and let her come to you when she is ready.”

Erik knew she wasn’t wrong… knew this wasn’t right. But what choice did he have really?

“I can’t wait, Shuri. I just can’t. Pull it.”

“I’ll send it to you later this week.”

They shared a nod before he jogged up the spiraling ramp out of her lab. He knew it was a risk, especially if Wesley ever found out. But he knew one thing: she would forgive him. That was one thing that hadn’t changed.


	4. Chapter 4

Wesley tossed and turned, her mind reviewing every possible thing that could go wrong on her date with M’Baku later that evening. She had a right mind just to cancel the whole affair. It was probably all a cruel joke, she kept thinking to herself. Could he truly want her like that? It was foolish to think so, she thought. She just knew they were all reading too much into his intentions. This was just a dinner between friends and getting her hopes up for anything else would be a crushing blow. 

She jumped half out of her skin as the cell phone in her nightstand starting ringing. She barely looked at her old phone, not really having a purpose for it any longer. The weight of her heavy duvet made her not want to move an inch to pick it up. However, a small voice inside told her to check it. It rarely rang for unimportant reasons. She leaned over and pulled the phone out, the initials JR lighting up the home screen.

_Senator Richmond._

She slid the white bar across the screen. “S-Senator!” She tried to seem as alive and alert as she could despite the hoarseness in her voice. After all, she was talking to her former boss and a U.S. Senator.

“What did I tell you about that Senator stuff, Wesley? Joyce is just fine. Are you ok?”

“Y-yea, yep. I am good. What’s going on? It is like what 1 a.m. there.”

“You know I am still awake.” Wesley nodded, her old boss was indeed a night owl. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Wesley propped herself up on one side, turning on her side lamp. “What?”

“A woman called Clarissa asking questions about you today. She mentioned it in passing, said they were trying to do a check for a job?”

Wesley wrinkled her nose, confusion and anxiety shooting through her. “I haven’t applied for a job recently. Did she say anything else? Who she was with?”

“No, no. I asked, Clarissa couldn’t remember anything distinctive about the phone call. Said she had an accent but couldn’t place it. She just asked some generic questions about your work and why you left. What you did after you left.”

Wesley shot out of bed, treading her pacing pattern by at the foot of her bed.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “FUCK.”

“Don’t worry, Wes. I am going to the State Department later today. I will see Marcus and I will ask him… discreetly. But I promise you, it will be the same story it always is: unstable, unpredictable and unwell… the whole nine. He has no idea where you are. How could he? And besides, why would he need to call Clarissa for information? I wouldn’t worry about it, it probably has nothing to do with him. I just promised to let you know anytime your name came up and it came up. You are being careful, yes?”

“I am on another continent, Joyce… about as careful as I can get. Fuck!” She cried out.

“What’s wrong Wesley? He hasn’t found you in two years.”

Silence.

“Wesley… what happened?”

Wesley chewed on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to tell her but who else could she talk to about what really happened.

“He found me in Oakland. Like two weeks ago.”

“Jesus Christ. Did you talk to him?”

“You know how Marcus talks… not with many words. He graciously reminded me what being with him was like before some guy scared him off. I-I went back to my place the next day, packed up everything and stayed at a hotel for a week before leaving the country. Figured it would be harder for him to follow.”

She sat down on the edge of her bed, her fingers playing with an old t-shirt she wore to sleep. She looked up at the ceiling, desperate to stop the tears from falling.

“W-what was I thinking?” She whispered, almost forgetting her mentor and boss was even on the line. “I-I j-just can’t outrun him.”

Silence.

“I… I am so tired, Joyce.”

“Of what?”

“O-of running, pushing everyone away. Tired of denying myself…” She paused and laughed bitterly. “You know I have a date tonight? First one since I left? With th-this amazing guy. As unlike Marcus as any man can get. But what’s the point? He is always there, lurking in the background. I-I just want to be free.”

She heard a sigh on the other end. Having worked for the woman for several years, she imagined she just leaned back in her chair and took her reading glasses off.

“Then stop running, Wesley. Just stop.”

“It’s not,” her voice broke, “it’s not that easy, Joyce. I stop running and h-he catches me. I stop running and he consumes what little bit of me is left. You know that.”

“Listen to me. It _is_ that easy. He has stolen years from you, Wesley. Years you have been hiding and dodging and keeping people and love at an arm’s length. No wonder you are tired. That isn’t sustainable. You cannot live your life in fear of him forever. What is the point in trying to outrun him if you aren’t going to use the time to actually live? Hm? Go on your date. GO on your date,” she said louder in Wesley’s ear when she tried to interrupt. “Live your life and stop running, Wes.”

***

Wesley nervously wrang her hands as she watched the Wakandan landscape zoom by beneath her. She still marveled at the fact that she got to travel around the country via helicopter and it would only take 30 minutes to get there.

“We are here, Ms. Parker,” Okoye called as they landed in a clearing. Her heart felt like it was going to exploded through her rib cage as the words hit her ears.

“T-thank you. I appreciate the ride. I am sure you had better things to do with your Friday evening than accompany me here.”

“It is no trouble. A request from Prince N’Jadaka and the King.”

Wesley took her tone to say that, given who asked, refusal was not an option.

“Well, nevertheless, I am appreciative.”

“I will be in the palace. M’Baku’s guards will alert me when you are on your way back up the mountain. However, if you need me, call me.”

“Sounds good.”

They both descended the ramp into the cold. Wesley hadn’t thought about the climate when she got dressed. And neither had Shuri or Nakia apparently as they forced her into a sleeveless, skin-tight black dress and heels. She was dressed for summer, which would have been fine in the Golden City. But here? It felt more like fall despite being August. She appreciated Erik, who - thinking practically - had forced her to take a Border Tribe blanket with her. Her legs were chilly but her upper body felt perfectly warm with it draped around her bare arms.

She smiled as M’Baku, who waited for her at the bottom of the ramp. She watched as his eyes lit up as he looked over her body, her curves on full display despite the blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders. She was not the only one who pulled out all the stops. He looked sinfully handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit.

 _How is he allowed to look this good? This perfect?_ She thought to herself. She had been keeping her desires for him at bay. They were a couple that could never be for so many reasons but that didn’t stop her from looking, desiring… that didn’t turn off her very real human desires.

“You look amazing, Wesley,” he offered as he handed her the bouquet of white and pink roses in his hand.

“You t-too. Thank you,” she smiled as she took the flowers out of outstretched hands.

“They did not tell you that summer is fairly short in the mountains? My apologies. The day time is perfect weather this time of year but it can be chilly when night falls. Let’s get in the carriage, shall we? It is just a quick trip down the mountain.”

She followed him to the carriage that sat on the dirt road across the clearing. She let out a sigh of relief as the immediate heat from the carriage hit her small frame.

“Better?”

“Much, thank you. I most certainly scarified practicality for vanity tonight,” she laughed at her own expense.

“I am not complaining. You look perfect.”

Wesley eyed for a moment, waiting for the backhanded portion of the compliment to come. And it didn’t. He continued to surprise her.

They didn’t talk much on the ride down, mainly because Wesley was captivated by the scenery as they road down the winding curves of the mountain. It was just as beautiful as M’Baku described, possibly more so. She almost wanted to forgo dinner and just ride around the mountains seeing everything she could.

However, he did not lie when he said it was a quick ride down the mountains. Soon she found herself seated across from M’Baku in a private room, right next to a raging fire.

Wesley settled in her seat, M’Baku pouring them a drink from a bottle waiting for them at the table.

“What’s this?”

“Jabari rum. Best you will ever have, I promise.”

Wesley raised her eyebrows before taking a sip from the glass. If drinks could cause orgasms, she would have had one right then and there. She didn’t even like rum but this went down so smooth, it was sinful.

Her face must have looked every bit as pleased as she felt because soon she heard M’Baku’s infectious bark of a laugh filling the room. “Was I right?”

“Most definitely the best rum I have ever had.”

Conversation with M’Baku was effortless as the conversation progressed through their first course and salad. Wesley hated dinner dates because she always worried they would run out of things to say before the main course. But the main course arrived, a delicious vegetable stew that Wesley decided she could eat every day for the rest of her life, and there was no sign of slowing down.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked, his nervousness clear in his voice.

“Of course.”

“You seemed surprised when I asked you to dinner. Why is that?”

Wesley sat her spoon down, dapping the corner of her mouth, before saying, “Well, I was. We had spent a lot of time together, yes. But I wasn’t sure… I don’t know and then everyone was calling it a date. It j-just surprised me, is all, that you would want to go to dinner with me. That _you_ would want to spend time with me.”

“I do not know why,” he said bluntly, “ You are beautiful, charismatic, hilarious even when you don’t realize it.”

“You’ve only known me for a week.”

He shrugged, “And it only took a week for me to know I enjoy your company and wish to spend more time with you.”

She turned her head away from him, her cheeks warming at his directness and the compliment. “T-Thank you. I enjoy your company as well.”

“You do not talk about yourself a lot,” he remarked casually.

Wesley’s head tilted, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve ask a million questions about me since I met you. And I appreciate your curiosity, your interest. But it just dawned on me that I know little about you. Well, aside from what N’Jadaka told us and he is man of few words.”

“Well what do you want to know, Chief M’Baku?” Something about M’Baku made her feel safe, she couldn’t explain it. After all, she had knew him for a whole week. But maybe that is what was safe. There were no expectations, no past to measure up to, none of the pressure she felt like when she tried to talk to Erik. They could just talk. She wasn’t about to reveal all the destruction that led her to Wakanda over dinner but something begged her to open the door a little and let him out of the cold.

She guessed it was the part of her that was tired of feeling alone. She was surrounded by friendly faces in Wakanda, for the first time in two years. And yet, she felt just as alone here as she did in every other city. The last time she spoke to her therapist, the woman recommended she try dating again, try moving on. Joyce said the same thing. She was just reluctant, terrified to make the same mistakes again. But maybe Erik was right… Maybe M’Baku was her opportunity to finally leave the past where it was.

“Tell me about your family.”

Wesley nodded, this one was surprisingly easy. “Um, my mother and father were both lawyers in North Carolina. My dad’s dream was to become a judge. They died when I was 15 in a car accident… drunk driver. I went to live with my grandma in Oakland, that’s how I met Erik. My grandmother died when I was in college. Just been Erik and I since honestly.”

“Friends?”

Wesley laughed, “I don’t have many of those, by choice. I am similar to Erik in that way I guess? Kind of a loner. But I have two friends from college I am still really close to, Paige and Brittany. They couldn’t be more different from each other. Paige is a painter and a complete free spirit. She just glides through life with ease. And Brittany is finishing her residency to become a doctor. Very type A, very stubborn.”

M’Baku watched Wesley’s eyes and face light up with enthusiasm as she talked about her two friends, the only mention of her past life that he had ever heard.

“How do you fit into the group?”

“A healthy median between the two.”

“How did they feel about you moving here?”

Wesley took a bite of her food, taking a minute to make up an answer. They rounded out the group of three people from D.C. that had her number, the only people she even said goodbye to. But she never told them where she was headed. It was a risk she simply couldn’t take.

“They were happy for me. They knew how excited I was to get back into this work. We’ve talked a couple times since I arrived.” Another lie. Wesley was already regretting playing this game, remembering quickly there were only so many questions he could ask before she had to spin a web of lies to keep up.

“Well, you are lucky to have such dedicated friends by your side.”

“Yea, I am,” she smiled as she brought her glass to her lips. The music playing from main dining drifted into their private room, catching Wesley’s ear. “That is beautiful,” she remarked.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked.

Wesley nodded immediately, the opportunity to be in his arms and end this line of questioning too great to pass. He stood and held out his hand, leading her to the open space by their table.

Wesley’s breath hitched as his hand slid around her waist as he placed one on her broad shoulder. He pulled her body in close, flush against his chest. Wesley’s body filled with heat and desire as she felt his muscles around her body. She finally remembered what this felt like again. She hadn’t allowed herself to grow attached to anyone new, especially romantically, in years. Her fear of falling into a sea of jagged rocks and rough waves too great and too terrifying. And here she was, walking toward the cliff with someone new, yet again. All night, she had been searching his actions and words for a reason to retreat from the edge. He had yet to give her one.

Her fingertips lazily drew patterns on his arm as they swayed back and forth to the beat of the music. He hummed the tune as he looked down at her, completely taken by the smile on her lips and the contentment in her eyes. The rest of the world slow dissipated as they danced, wrapped up in each other, both content to stay there as long as they could.

***

Shuri knocked on Erik’s office door as he sat scrolling on his tablet.

“Did you find anything?” He asked immediately, sitting up in his chair.

“Hi to you too, Cousin.” She offered sarcastically. “And yea, I just sent everything to your tablet. Honestly, Wesley is painstakingly normal,” she flopped down on the couch across from his desk. “There are a couple oddities, if you will, but if something life altering happened, it didn’t show up on anything a background check could offer.”

“Come on, cuz… there’s gotta be something.”

“Check for yourself,” she motioned toward his tablet. “There are a few things that might be of use to you though.”

“What are they?”

“Well, Wesley is pretty well off herself… Well, as Americans go, at least. She has a bank account with over half a million dollars in it.” Erik stood and walked over to the couch to sit by Shuri as she pulled up the bank statements to show them. “It sat untouched for almost 15 years. Then she started withdrawing from it monthly for a year before she started at the Center.”

Erik waved his hand as if to dismiss her concerns. “I didn’t know she was sitting on money like that. What else?”

“Did she ever mention why she left D.C? Or anything?”

“Nah… I’ve asked her. But she just gives vague answers. Why?”

“Well, I dug around, talked to an old coworker of hers when she worked in Senator…” Shuri checked her tablet, “Joyce Richmond’s office. She said that Wesley just disappeared. They went home and the next morning, she didn’t show.”

Erik perked up, a frown immediately replacing the neutral expression he usually had on his face. “She didn’t put in her two weeks?”

“From the sound of it, she didn’t even quit. She literally just stopped showing up. I checked and she had been withdrawing huge sums from her checking and savings in the weeks before - like her daily limit every time. The day before she ghosted her office, she took whatever was left out of her accounts the bank and changed her phone number too. She just dropped off the grid with no warning. What was even more interesting is that she had been offered a job like a week prior? At the U.N., which was apparently her dream job.”

“She say anything else?”

“She insinuated that Wesley was unwell? Mentally… and that’s why she left. Said her boyfriend told everyone she had a breakdown. I checked her health records, which was a bit illegal. There’s nothing there.”

Erik scratched his head, this was supposed to answer his questions, not create more. “Did you find out what she did afterward?”

“Seems like she bounced around… withdraws in banks in cities across the United States. You would know better than me: Atlanta, Charlotte, New Orleans, Austin… she would stay for a month or two then move again. Oakland was the longest she stayed anywhere since D.C.”

“So she just worked her way across the South to land in Oakland?

“Yep, seems that way.” Shuri paused, eyeing the way his hands flexed into a fist, the ghost of a man she thought long dead and gone peaking through his eyes. “You’re upset.”

“I know people who live like this, Shuri. The reason is never good. Lots of money… just disappearing? She tryin’ outrun somethin.”

“Or someone,” Shuri remarked. “Of course, you can’t ask her because you would have to admit you invaded her privacy and ran the check in the first place.”

Erik sucked his teeth, annoyance radiating through him as he mentally acknowledged the conundrum he now found himself in.

“Wesley wouldn’t do anything illegal, would she?”

“You’d be surprised the illegal shit politicians and their circles get into. Years ago, I woulda said Parker was above all that shit. But it looks to me like she got in over her head in something.”

Silence.

“And the footage?”

He hoped that would, at least, be a bit more straightforward.

“Sent that to you too. Follows her movements the whole night, even to your place. Didn’t take too long to piece together. Not sure it will help you though. I had to hack this restaurant’s footage and it is terrible. Between the quality and angles, you can’t make out his face. He is waiting by her car like a creeper, they talk for a few minutes, he backs her into a car nearby, and when she tries to leave, he attacks her. Random good Samaritan sees and scares him off.”

Erik ran his hand over his face, frustrated.

“Not the smoking gun you were hoping for?”

“Nah, not really.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Shuri walked toward the door. She paused as she opened it.

“I can keep digging, at least, see if we can find out what Wesley is up against? Maybe we should tell T’Challa? If Wesley is running from someone dangerous?”

Erik nodded, he didn’t want to be he knew she was right. Eventually, T’Challa would have to know if her baggage came knocking at their doorstep. “Let’s hold off. See if we can figure out exactly what she is mixed up in. But I’ll tell him. Thanks again, lil bit.”

***

The carriage ride back up the mountains seemed even shorter, but Wesley knew it was likely because she didn’t want the night to end so soon.

“I hope you had a nice time?” He asked as they turned yet another corner up the mountain.

“Yes! It was amazing, thank you for inviting me. I had a great time.”

“Apologies for keeping you up here so late. It is a good thing the ride back is short.”

“Too short honestly. The plane zooms by so fast, I can hardly see anything. The city lights throughout the mountains looked beautiful as we came in and we flew so fast, I could barely see them.”

M’Baku’s head jerked to look at her, an opportunity to get her to stay longer appearing like magic. “If you have a few minutes, the throne room has an amazing view of the mountains? I could show you.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” She tried to limit the eagerness in her voice, the desire to spend even just a few more minutes with him.

“It is no trouble. I am happy to show you.”

He helped her out of the carriage, offering his arm to walk her up the stairs of the Great Lodge. It did remind her of a giant luxurious ski lodge. She knew they had their own version of vibranium in Jabari wood so she guessed most, if not all, of the structure was made out of the material. The decor wasn’t as warm as that of the palace but she guessed it wasn’t supposed to be. It was meant to exude strength and power.

The walk to the throne room was short, M’Baku letting Wesley walk in first. She noted the wooded gorilla figurines scattered across the space, long wooden benches agains the floor-to-ceiling windows, long wooden hanging decorations from the ceiling. All leading to one giant-sized throne chair, sitting on a raised platform by the window.

M’Baku took her hand, immediately sending sparks through Wesley’s body, causing the butterflies in the pit of her stomach to take flight. He led her through the room and up unto the platform to the window.

“Wow. This is beautiful.”

The lights in the valley of the mountain looked like veins branching out in the darkness in every direction and up the sides of every mountain. It looked like something plucked out of a movie: the perfect mountain escape.

As she focused on the mountains outside, M’Baku focused on her, deciding the view outside was no longer the most beautiful thing in the room right then. He adored the childlike wonder and amazement on her face, the way her fingertips pressed into the glass as if that would help her get closer. She looked so much younger, less stressed in that moment than she had any other time he had been with her.

Neither of them even noticed they were still holding hands, or that their bodies were slowly inching closer together until their arms were touching.

She turned to face him, finally registering the physical contact between them. She pulled her hand away, chuckling lightly and clearing her throat.

“T-Thank you for this and dinner. It was amazing.”

Her statement was met with silence as he just stared at her for a few moments.

“Hanuman, you are beautiful,” he whispered in a low tone. He took a step toward her, causing her to end up against the cold glass of the window, all of Jabariland below her.

Their bodies so close neither Hanuman or God could fit between them. Her fears and insecurities melted away and were replaced with the mind-numbing fog of desire, of longing.

“M’Baku,” her soft pleads beckoned him forward as he bent forward to finally do the one thing he yearned to do since the day he saw her in the dining hall of the Palace.

Wesley’s head started spinning as their mouths explored each other’s, awakening feelings she hadn’t felt in years. Her hands grasped at the collar of his crips white shirt, while his roamed her shapely frame. She moaned into his mouth as his strong hands griped her hips.

They broke away for a brief moment, both catching their breath as they stood there. As he went back in for another taste, he took a moment just to look at her. Sexy and breathless. His hands cupped her face as he leaned back in, his thumb caressing her cheek softly. Wesley’s body immediately stilled beneath him, the familiarity of that simple touch transporting her back to another time in another room on another continent.

 _“Marcus… please. I-I’m sorry. N-nothing happened! I promise.” Her body shook as it backed into the wall of their shared living room. Her eyes franticly looked from his seething body to the front door, which was too far for her to get to in time and the balcony, which would be foolish since they lived on the 11_ _ th _ _floor of their shared D.C. high rise._

_She flinched and let out a small scream as his fist banged against the wall next to her face. She supposed she was relieved that it was merely the wall and not her face receiving the brunt of his anger. But it mattered little, she could fell the bruises blossoming on her abdomen and around her eye already. He usually tried to avoid her face, it was hard to cover up bruises on her face or explain them away. But sometimes he was too angry to remember that pact._

_“God, I don’t know why I even stay with you! You. Fucking. Whore.” He grabbed Wesley by the shoulders and punctured each word by slamming her against the wall. She was thankful her head didn’t bounce against it each time, giving her a concussion. She wasn’t sure how many more of those he could inflict before he caused permanent brain damage._

_“You think you can just cheat on me and get away with it? Fuck your way to the top for a new fucking job? You think anyone would love you like I do? Want to be with a stupid slut like you?”_

_Wesley was in so much pain she could barely defend herself. She was no one’s cheater, hell she wasn’t even a flirt. Wesley tried so hard to keep her conversations with another men brief, even on male-dominated Capitol Hill. However, when her old TA from Harvard stopped by to chat, she entertained his visit. She wouldn’t have even done that had he not been helping her by putting in a good word on her behalf for an open position at the U.N., her dream job._

_But of course, his visit was when her fiancé, Marcus Alexander, decided to stop by her office and take her to lunch. She could tell he was seething the moment he walked in and “caught” her alone with another man. She had been dreading coming home that day but she knew she couldn’t postpone the inevitable._

_She never understood Marcus’s violent outbursts. It didn’t matter what she said, what she did, how much she begged and pleaded, promised she would never commit whatever simple offense again. He never believed her. And so, this continued to happen, regardless of how perfect Wesley tried to be for him._

_“N-no, no. I w-wouldn’t cheat on y-you. I s-swear.” She sobbed, ignoring the physical pain radiating through her. “Baby, p-please.”_

_His hands cupped her face, forcing her eyes to him. She flinched beneath him, silent sobs still racking through her as his thumb gently caressed the forming bruise on her cheek bone._

_“I’m sorry, baby. You know why I get so upset with you, right? Because I love you. And when I see you talking to other guys. You are mine, understand? No one else can have what’s mine.”_

_“I-I don… don’t w-want a-anyone else. I p-promise.”_

_Marcus smiled at her, Wesley letting out a tiny sigh of relief as he transitioned back to the man she was used to. “That’s a good girl.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “Now you know you have to make this up to me right?”_

_She watched as he reached down and undid the buckle of the belt around his dress pants. “Well don’t stand there looking stupid, you idiot. Get on your knees.”_

Wesley immediately gasped as she came back to the present, M’Baku’s face and body replacing Marcus’s in front of her. She had never had something like that happen before.

She could hear her heart and blood pounding in her ears as she looked around panicked as if he would reappear in front of her again. She put her violently-shaking hands on M’Baku’s chest, physically pushing him away from her.

“Wesley? Wes! What’s wrong? Are you ok?” She could hear his voice and the words but it sounded like she was in a tunnel and he was so far away. She felt his strong hands touch her shoulder, an action she knew was meant to comfort, but instead she jerked away from it.

“T-This was a mistake,” she whispered, more to herself than the perplexed giant standing in front of her. If she hadn’t been avoiding his gaze, she would have seen the tinge of disappointment flash across his eyes.

“A mistake? Wesley, tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

“Y-you can’t h-help. No one c-can help. This was a mistake. I a-am sorry,” she rambled as she pushed herself away from the glass window and away from him. Marcus’s words raged in her head like an uncontrollable forest fire, destroying all the life she thought was starting to grow there. “Y-you d-don’t want me. I-I don’t deserve you.”

She quickly turned away from him and ran toward the door, leaving a very concerned and confused M’Baku in her wake. After the initial shock of her outburst wore off, M’Baku quickly recovered, running after her. Not in an attempt to convince her to stay, but out of concern for her health and safety.

By the time, he made it outside, she was boarding the Talon.

“Wesley, wait!”

His words reached her but that didn’t stop her. She didn’t say a word to Okoye, who was waiting in the Talon for her at this point. But one look at the young woman’s face and the Dora didn’t need an affirmation that it was time to go. She quickly got behind the wheel and lifted the soundless plane into the sky.

Wesley balled her hands into a fist, so tightly it felt like her nails were going to break skin. She tried her breathing exercises from therapy but it didn’t work. Breathing was just too hard, her ragged breaths filling the cabin as they flew. Every time she started to calm down, she saw his face again, menacing and terrifying in the darkness. She went through this cycle for most of the ride home, only regaining her a semblance of composure a couple minutes before they landed at the Palace.

She stood up, body weak and uneasy, ignoring Okoye’s concerned look. “T-thank you f-for the ride,” she offered quietly.

The Dora just offered her a sympathetic smile before opening the ramp and letting her off. She followed closely behind Wesley, deciding it was in everyone’s best interest if she ensured the young woman made it back to her room safely.

The walk back to Wesley’s room was silent as Okoye stole glances at her, noting the shaking in her body and her erratic movements. Though no words were formed, Wesley could almost hear the unanswered questions jumping around in the General’s mind. Part of her wanted to assure Okoye that she was fine, and let her know that M’Baku did nothing wrong. As she knew a report of this date was likely headed to Erik and the King as soon as her door closed. However, she couldn’t push her vocal chords to speak.

When she reached her door, she started to turn the knob before she turned to look at the woman. “T-thank you. Again,” she whispered.

Okoye nodded, her sympathetic eyes the last thing Wesley saw before she closed the door shut.

She shakily walked over to her bed and slid down to the floor. The only things she could see were Marcus’s angry face and M’Baku’s confused and terrified one. She slumped forward, head on her knees, tears springing to her eyes as she thought about M’Baku. She truly ruined everything.

 _He ruined everything_.

For a split second, she had thought she was ready to move on, thought she could leave him in the past. But Marcus was her past and her present. There was no shaking him.

She grabbed one of the pillows off her bed and screamed into it until her screams turned to muffled sobs, sobs for the past she couldn’t shake and the future she couldn’t grasp hold of. .


End file.
